


Vanya’s Book: The Reactions, Part II

by fragilecapricornpanic



Series: PRE-WRITTEN, Pre-Canon Sibling Encounters [29]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alive Reginald Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Angst, Angst and Feels, Ben Hargreeves Deserves Better, Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Canon Compliant, Diego Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Diego Hargreeves is Bad at Feelings, Extra-Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Ghost Ben Hargreeves, Good Parent Allison Hargreeves, Good Sibling Allison Hargreeves, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, Luther Hargreeves Being an Asshole, Luther Hargreeves Needs A Hug, One Shot Collection, POV Alternating, Pre-Canon, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Stuttering Diego Hargreeves, Vanya Hargreeves Deserves Better, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26062576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilecapricornpanic/pseuds/fragilecapricornpanic
Summary: We know how Five felt about Vanya’s book, but how did the others originally react to Extra Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven? This time we see things from their individual points of view as they discovered the book.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Vanya Hargreeves & Everyone, Vanya Hargreeves & The Hargreeves
Series: PRE-WRITTEN, Pre-Canon Sibling Encounters [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1869709
Comments: 4
Kudos: 91





	Vanya’s Book: The Reactions, Part II

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second part to Vanya’s Book: The Reactions, which is directly previous to this in the series.

**_Diego_ **

It was light outside by the time Diego had decided to call it a day on that night’s vigilantism. It had been pretty boring, besides breaking up a shitty fist fight. Embarrassingly, he had been sucker punched in the process... whatever - he still got them to get off each other. His face hurt like hell though, as he sat in his car listening to the morning radio. He’d just gone in to a convenience store to buy a bag of ice, holding it to his eye felt like heaven. Morning DJs were so spunky and irritating, he was just reaching over to switch to his cassette when he heard... no... he couldn’t have heard that right... Vanya’s name? 

He sat in stunned silence as he listened to the DJs chatter and gossip about his family’s darkest secrets. This had to be a dream, he must’ve been knocked out by that punch, this couldn’t be real. Especially not _Vanya_. She’s so quiet, so timid. She wouldn’t do this, _couldn’t_ do this. The world felt like it was spinning.

_”She said her room was like a closet compared to the others’, and when she was eighteen her brother-“_

_”Which brother? I lose track of all those boys.”_

_”The junkie. Anyway, when she was eighteen, he just knocked straight through her wall, made it part of his roo-“_

Diego tore his shitty car radio right out, like he does when he parks up somewhere sketchy and doesn’t want it stolen, except this time he threw it straight out of the window. This couldn’t be happening. How much did she say? Did they know _everything_?! He started his engine and drove like a maniac until he could find the nearest book store. 

—

There she was, his baby sister. Her bashful, depressed face plastered right on the window of Barnes & Noble. Diego barely resisted the urge to throw a knife straight through the window, instead he marched over to the nearest copy, and walked straight back out with the thing. He wasn’t gonna buy the damn thing, wouldn’t give her the money she seemed to so desperately want. Diego started his car up as quick as the ancient thing would, and drove to his place - speeding all the way.

—

Diego had never been a huge reader, but he read that thing like he had a day to live. He didn’t even take a break to eat, only occasionally getting up to pee. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt this angry. He’d been unbelievably furious when Ben had died, but it was a different kind of fury - he didn’t know how to deal with _this_. After he’d finished, he threw the thing across the room - not even bothering to use his power. It just flew wherever the hell it wanted, smashing his shitty TV in the process. Diego didn’t even care, it could’ve probably smashed his damn car to pieces and he wouldn’t care. He was so enraged. 

Pacing around in his room was all he could do, he couldn’t get his thoughts collected enough to even think properly. He had to go over there, right? He had to talk to her, to _yell_ at her. Maybe he could scare her a little, throw something through her window. No... he couldn’t.

The truth is, Diego didn’t think he’d be able to say a word to her. They’d all get stuck in his mouth, it would just be him angrily panting as he tried to spit his words out. Even thinking about that was embarrassing enough, no, he had to do something else. He had to write a letter. First though, he needed to go to the gym and beat the fuck out of the pathetic picture of Vanya on the book’s sleeve.

—

Returning from the gym, he felt like he’d cleared his mind enough to actually sit down and write out how he felt. He may have had a little Dutch courage, too. Writing down how he felt wasn’t easy, he kept getting too angry - it sounded threatening. He had to stop, take a breather. He’d try again tomorrow.

He had to be at the station soon, he had to calm down. Punching the book sleeve had gotten some stress out of his system, but he was still ridiculously riled up. Diego dragged his uniform on so fiercely that he almost tore his shirt. His stomach was doing somersaults at the idea of everyone in the academy knowing all his secrets. Why did she have to mention his stutter? He could probably cope with the other things, but this was essentially out of his control - breathing exercises could only do so much. 

—

A wolf whistle greeted Diego as he entered the station. He bit his cheek to stop himself from throwing his fucking gun at the guy’s head. Eudora was there with the rest of them, though her facial expression was very different. The others had a mixture of grins and sneers, whilst Eudora’s was pity. Diego thought maybe the pity was worse. He cracked his knuckles and made his way over to the rest of the rookies.

”Di-Di-Diego, hows your m-m-mommy?” Alex, the prick, sneered. Diego _couldn’t punch him, he couldn’t punch him, he couldn’t punch him._

“Hey, can you autograph mine?” one of the other guy’s chuckled, looking too smug for Diego’s liking.

“Can you guys just fuck off?” he seethed, rapidly losing his patience.

“Oh come on, we’re just joking Number T-T-Two.” Alex piped up again, bursting into laughter.

__

__

That was enough, Diego casually sauntered up to Alex, grabbed him by the collar - and socked him straight in the mouth. Before he had a chance to hit back, Diego kicked him in the crotch too. As he doubled over, gasping in pain, Diego slammed his elbow into his back. Alex fell to the ground rather dramatically, his face turned crimson red. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he yelped whilst he gasped for air. It was too late for apologies. Diego shot down to the floor beside him and punched him, again, and again, and again. He must’ve had six people scrambling to drag him away. Diego would just fiercely elbow them off in between punches.

Alex’s nose was bloody, and he probably lost a tooth or two. He was cowering behind his hand, tucked into the fetal position. It felt so good to beat the smug grin off his face. Diego probably wouldn’t have stopped until he’d murdered the fucker - but Patch had other plans, as she tased him right in the neck. The crowd of cops trying to stop Diego took their chance and pinned him to the floor, placing him in handcuffs just like the ones he had in his own pocket.

—

Losing his job hadn’t been a great surprise, he knew he was on thin ice, anyway. Diego didn’t like being bossed around, and he hated all the goddamn paperwork. Eudora was disgusted in him, he thought maybe this time they’d broken up for good. All he could do now was wallow in self pity, and take all of his pent up rage out on boxing. He would never, ever forgive Vanya. She was dead to him.

Diego underestimated how long it would take to write a non-violent letter. He must’ve written fifteen drafts before finally writing one that didn’t end up in the trash. Even then, it had multiple parts crossed out and corrected. He couldn’t stand to wait for the mail to reach her, he knew where she lived, he would do it himself.

Diego didn’t think his anger towards Vanya would ever dissipate or settle, he would be forced to hold onto it for the rest of his life - building up stronger and harsher until it tore him apart.

—

Carrying his pitifully small collection of belongings into his new _”home”_ in his gym’s boiler room, Diego wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry or scream. How had a fucking book been all it needed for his life to come crashing down around him?

—

**_Klaus (and Ben)_ **

Ben watched on apathetically as his brother heaved himself out of some guy’s bed and started sneakily rifling through his belongings. It wasn’t exactly the best lifestyle, but it was marginally better than it had been. At least he was going to steal from him to buy pills, rather than heroin or cocaine. Klaus was more functional this way. Ben chalked that up as a win, as depressing as that win was. “Maybe we can go to a diner, too?” Ben gently suggested, hoping his brother would actually agree to eat. Surprisingly, he returned a quick nod whilst he rushed to get dressed and leave the guy’s apartment.

Crunching his cocktail of pills, Klaus tried to situate where the hell they were. “Where are we?” he asked Ben over his shoulder. When he didn’t get a response, Klaus stopped walking. He tried to work out what he’d done that Ben would be pissy about... there were too many options to choose from. He sighed wearily and turned around to find his brother. “You know I _steal_ them, not buy them.” Klaus joked as he staggered over to where his brother was gaping at the window of an electronics store. No response, sheesh he must’ve really done something fucked up, Klaus thought. Curiosity got the better of him, and he lazily looked to check out what the hell was so enthralling on the TVs. “Vanya...” he gasped. His pills must’ve been cut, this couldn’t be real.

—

So maybe Klaus relapsed back into worse habits a _little_ , was it really his fault? How else was a guy supposed to cope with this shit. He wasn’t the most liked at NA meetings, for a copious list of reasons. For the past couple of weeks, he’d been receiving a hefty supply of glares for reading whilst he was there, but it’s not like he would pay attention anyway. The meetings were court ordered, he didn’t give a fuck. What was rather frustrating though, was how quickly Ben could read. Klaus would be halfway through a paragraph and Ben would already be nagging for him to turn the page!

“I can’t believe she would do that!” Ben snapped over Klaus’ shoulder, barely able to contain his agitation. His brother hushed him, it wasn’t Ben’s fault he was too high to read past a fourth grade level. How could she write that? He was _dead_ , and she didn’t even believe he was a ghost. Klaus had tried to tell her _multiple times_. How could she use his death for pity points, make him out to be some kind of martyr? God, Ben wished he could physically interact with things. He just wanted to punch or kick something, maybe unleash the tentacles he’d hated so much in life. He’d never been this angry the entirety of the time he’d been dead, which was no mean feat considering the terrible things Klaus had done over the years.

Maybe Klaus shouldn’t have torn her wall down, his room had been large enough. That was an asshole move. Had they - had _he_ \- really been so bad to her? As a kid he’d been so focused on his own problems that he’d never stopped to consider how Vanya felt. She’d resented him for being _”extraordinary”_ , whilst he’d resented her for being normal. He’d wanted to be normal so bad, to not be plagued by the dead day in day out, to not have to suffer through dad’s “ _training”_. The stuff she said he did as an adult... Klaus had no fucking idea whether it was true or not, he couldn’t remember the last three days of his life - how would he know what he did three years ago? Maybe he deserved this.

—

“She didn’t even get my favorite book right.” Ben groaned “It’s Little women.” He was pacing back and forth in the crackden Klaus had wound up in.

Klaus hummed as response, more focused on trying to remember how to breathe. Ben would get it out of his system, he just needed time to rant.

”She used to sneak into my room, you know?” Ben briefly looked down at his brother to make sure he was breathing “We used to read books together...” he sighed deeply, feeling so betrayed it physically hurt. “How could she do this to us?” he grunted.

The temptation to call his brother a dork was intense, but Klaus decided to actually shut up for once. “I dunno...” Klaus slurred “maybe she wanted... attention?” He supposed she never really got any as a kid, even less than they did. At least they had the shallow attention fame granted them. It got him some free drugs for a year or so, too. He was so tired... needed to sleep... Klaus let out a stifled gasp as he forgot how to breathe.

Ben glanced down at his brother, well used to this routine “You need to breathe in, Klaus.” he instructed. Ben leaned over his brother to make sure he didn’t look like he was overdosing. He hoped Klaus wouldn’t die before he had the chance to get a bit more back on track again. He seemed to be breathing okay, so Ben got back to his pacing. “Yeah... I guess.” he mumbled. Would she really go this far for attention? None of this made sense to Ben... how could tiny, timid Vanya do this to them? “...or money.” he absentmindedly grumbled, before stopping dead in his tracks and hoping to god Klaus was too out of it to pay attention.

A lightbulb almost popped up above Klaus’ head. “You’re a _genius_ , Benny!” he mumbled, trying to control his heavy limbs enough to sit up. He needed coke, that would help. Lots of coke. Once he’d gathered the energy he’d make his way to Vanya’s. How didn’t he come up with this idea himself? He deserved royalties... 

—

Klaus wasn’t sure exactly what to do once he’d dragged himself to Vanya’s front door. He was tempted to just kick her door in and collect his own royalties, but he decided maybe, kinda, sorta, possibly that would be a bad impulse decision. Instead, he followed the next impulse to come to him, and began manically banging on her door like a police officer. He intensified his banging on the door. Why was she taking so long? What was she doing? He needed to talk to her. Ugh, this was so infuriating. He needed her money. She needed to give him money. Now. As soon as possible. Immediately. He deserved the money. His chapter had the most drama. Klaus was pounding so hard on the door he considered he may cut his knuckles. He should get Ben’s share too. Ben _died_ that must be worth quite a lot. Klaus’ heart was beating too fast, he thought. He was getting paranoid he was going to drop dead. It would be quite funny if he died right now, he chuckled. Vanya might blame herself. It would be good karma. Not that he truly felt she’d wronged him. If anything he’d wronged her. Repeatedly. Maybe he _should_ kick down her door, he thought. He probably should. He definitely should. Just as he was about to do so, though, the door creaked open. Oh. He hadn’t really planned what to say. Was she holding a _frying pan_? Klaus held back a snort so his nose wouldn’t start bleeding again. She looked so tiny. Was she always so tiny? Maybe he’d grown. Could adults grow? Maybe she’d shrank. Anyway, “Royalties!” he barked.

Vanya looked so small and gentle, Ben felt. She was just the same Vanya as the last time he saw her. It made his anger melt away momentarily, but then it came back again - ten times stronger. She _was_ the same Vanya, and that’s what made it so unforgivable.

—

**_Allison_ **

Her phone would _not_ stop ringing. She irritatedly dragged herself out of her comfortable bed, and ambled over to her phone. It better be something really important. Hopefully Klaus hadn’t died... she only had three brothers left.

”Hello?” Allison mumbled, still half asleep.

”Allison, it’s Louise,” her PR manager responded, sounding quite panicked “there’s uh.... something you need to know.” Allison didn’t like the sound of this. Had she been fired by one of her jobs? “It’s your sister.” Louise mumbled. Allison felt a knot in her stomach. Why would _PR_ care about Vanya?

”Is she okay?! I-“ Allison took a moment to steady her thoughts “is she okay?” she whispered, scared to find out the answer incase it was a no.

Louise sighed heavily down the line. “She’s released a memoir, a tell-all kind of thing...” Allison’s blood ran ice cold.

”No, that can’t be right. Definitely my sister, not one of my brothers? It must’ve been one of them.” she exclaimed, feeling a mixture of panicked and bewildered.

”It’s Vanya all right... called it _Extra Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven_.” Louise explained wearily. Allison couldn’t get any words out, she was completely dumbfounded. “You’re gonna be getting a lot of calls, paps, a lot of people will want to interview you...” she rambled apologetically.

__

__

”When you say tell-all, do you mean _tell-all_?” Allison grunted, already feeling rage building inside of her. She’d worked too hard to have everything ruined.

—

The ongoing media storm was utterly exhausting, she hadn’t slept this poorly since she was breastfeeding. Allison had honestly lost count of how many movies and TV shows she’d worked on, but she’d _never_ done this many interviews. She would just finish one, and immediately get badgered about another. It seemed like everyone wanted to get her side of things, even freaking Teen Vogue.

”I can’t do this, Emily.” Allison whispered, tears running down her face, ruining her makeup. She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t be bombarded every minute of the day by the press whilst also working on a movie. It was draining all her mental and physical energy. “I’m a mom, too. I have to prioritise my child!” Normally Allison would just rumor this situation away, but this monster was too big - and she was also nervous people would realise how greatly she relies on her rumors. Vanya had implied she was basically addicted to them.

”You have to, Allison.” her agent Emily demanded, sounding so over this whole situation. “You signed a contract.”

Allison didn’t sign a contract to be bought by her dad, she didn’t sign a contact to be used for her power, she didn’t sign a contact to have Vanya as her sister, and she definitely didn’t sign a contract to have all of her dirty little secrets released to the world.

—

The more Allison read of this thing, the more angry and downright shocked she would get. Some of the stuff she shared was unbelievably personal. Not just about Allison, but her siblings too. Did she really have to go on about Five and Ben? Surely they were out of bounds, especially Ben. These things were their own secrets. The world didn’t need to know about Luther’s daddy issues, Diego’s stutter, Allison’s narcissism, Klaus’ demons, Five’s obnoxious nature, or Ben’s death count. If she wanted to tell the world all about herself, then fine. But she didn’t. She told everyone’s secrets for them.

_”I can only speculate, but I believe Allison has used her powers to get everything she has in life. Her career, her husband, everything she holds dear - besides her daughter, though I don’t doubt she would have rumored her into existence had that been possible”._

God, that had caught Allison so off guard she literally flinched, almost getting her eye taken out by her makeup artist in the process. How could she write these things? Allison knew deep down that she wasn’t wrong, but it still wasn’t her business to tell. Allison’s career and the life she built for herself was going to be in tatters. But still... she couldn’t help but feel guilty, too. She hadn’t been a good enough sister, and her brothers hadn’t been good enough either. Their dad _certainly_ hadn’t been a good enough father. Could their relationship ever be rebuilt? It was difficult to even consider that as a possibility, how could they rebuild the bridges that had been burnt down to ash...

How had she been so clueless? Allison had never truly realised just how deeply jealous and hurt Vanya was. It was jarring to know all of these feelings had been sitting under the surface for all of these years. Could Allison have changed things had she known? _Would_ Allison have changed things if she’d known, or would she have been selfish and ignored Vanya’s issues? She ignores the issues of her brothers, after all. She’s tried so hard to separate her life in Hollywood from the life she grew up in, that she left her siblings behind almost completely. All the times Allison told Vanya _go away, leave me alone, I’m busy, get out of my room, I heard a rumor you stopped bugging me, can you play your violin quieter?_ raced through her mind. She winced with guilt, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Vanya had crossed the line.

—

Allison braced herself for yet another set of interviews, she was in a terrible mood after being pounded by the paparazzi on her way here. She was essentially just repeating the same pre-made statements over and over again.

When would the press grow tired of this and let her get back to her normal life? As Allison waited for the journalist to arrive, she began to consider whether she should contact Vanya personally. She’d been debating this since the book came out, and she still couldn’t decide. Part of her thought she should, as the book had been a clear cry for attention. Whilst the other part of her felt it was a firm no, for now. Allison needed time to process things and move on. She hoped maybe one day they wouldn’t feel this way towards one another, but that wouldn’t be for a long time. Allison had to let go of her anger and hurt first.

—

Every day now, for several weeks, Allison found herself stood staring at her phone - mulling over whether she could bring herself to call Vanya. She could do it... she had to do it... Allison picked up the receiver and held it to her ear, the tone ringing. As she lifted her finger to begin dialling Vanya’s number, she found she couldn’t do it. Her finger froze mid air, like her phone was surrounded by an invisible force, blocking her from the dial. Would she ever be able to bring herself to do it? Allison sighed deeply and hung the receiver back down. She needed to go cuddle Claire, cuddle her and never let go. Vanya was once like Claire, a helpless child. Allison would never let anyone treat Claire the way they’d treated Vanya. The guilt was gnawing at her.

—

**_Luther_ **

Dad had yet to appear today, but that was the usual case these days. He was a busy man, and since he only needed to instruct one person, he wasn’t as present as he used to be. Luther made his way to the downstairs kitchen, mom would make him a huge stack of pancakes.

As Luther was tucking in to his sixth pancake, he heard the unmistakable sound of Pogo’s cane. He turned to greet the chimp, and found he was carrying a newspaper. Luther thought that was odd, why would he read it in the kitchen? “Morning, Pogo.” Luther mumbled through a mouthful of delicious stodge. The chimp looked like he’d seen a ghost, as he opened his mouth with no words escaping him. What was going on? Luther gulped down his breakfast “Pogo?”

Pogo tentatively outstretched his arm, holding the newspaper out for Luther to grab. “Master Luther,” he greeted, his voice slightly wavering “I believe there is something you ought to know...” Luther grabbed the paper from him, feeling slightly nervous. Maybe something terrible had happened, a terrorist attack or something, something where he’s going to be needed for a mission. Luther smiled at Pogo as a thanks, and looked down at the paper in his hands. The last thing he’d expected to see was a miserable looking Number Seven, printed in black and white.

—

Luther had been exercising more than usual to try and relieve some of the stress the book was causing him. He just couldn’t believe she would do this to them, to dad. He was a strict father, but it was all necessary. It hadn’t been dad’s fault that Vanya had turned out to be ordinary. It also wasn’t the academy’s fault that Vanya was subsequently left out of some things. She had still been given a good life, right? Luther felt a little guilty about the things he’d read in the book, but he’d mostly just felt angry. None of this information was her’s to give away. The public shouldn’t be privy to all the secretive details of the Umbrella Academy. She’d completely exposed all of their weak points, placing them at great risk for when the time inevitably comes for them to rejoin.

Flicking through the book whilst he did push ups, Luther found himself agreeing with some parts. His siblings were leading troubled lives after leaving the academy. They had also resented him for being Number One. Especially Diego. He couldn’t help but think she should’ve never included Ben in her memoir. He could never give permission, not that she asked for permission from her living siblings anyway... The way she’d portrayed his death and Five’s disappearance had made their father out to be some kind of monster. Of course he grieved for his children, it had just been in his own way. The others, especially Vanya, just don’t know dad as well as Luther does. He was sorry to lose a sister, but he couldn’t reach out to her. It would be wrong considering how she’d tarnished their reputation and sought to destroy dad.

—

He’d considered several times whether he should call, or write a letter. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, though. He was still deeply hurt and angry. Dad had dealt with the book okay, even though she had the nerve to send a signed copy to him. Luther knew he would never read it, why would he want to? Luther was pretty sure Pogo had read it in the first week of its release. He had looked so mournful.

It was hard to go on public missions and have to deal with the press asking about the book. They no longer cared about who Luther was saving, they just wanted to know how he felt about it, how dad felt. They would even sit and wait outside the academy, their vans parked up all along the block. He was hounded, different newspapers clamoring to try and get the best scoop. She’d ruined everything he and dad had worked so hard for.

—

After dad saved his life, Luther had only grown more bitter towards Vanya. She had no idea what their dad was like, no idea how much he would do for them. He had much more time to think about things ever since dad pulled him from public missions. Luther had reread the book three times, annotated it heavily. No matter how many times he read it, he still couldn’t understand what had possessed her to do it. How could she be so bitter? She’d left the academy several years ago. Dad still supported her, paid for her medication. Without dad, she would’ve never even been started on it and received help for her anxiety at such a young age. Who knows what she would be like without his intervention.

—

The moon mission was growing closer, and Luther felt like he had to try and tie up loose ends - just incase. He trusted in his father’s ability to get him there safely, it was just a precaution. It made Luther feel proud that he was finally being entrusted with one of the most important missions their father had set. He hoped he wouldn’t grow too lonely up there, but he supposed he’d been on his own ever since his siblings left. He was used to it. It would be worth it, the world needed his research.

Luther sat by the phone, staring at it as though it would dial itself. He hadn’t spoken to Vanya in years, and he didn’t particularly want to, but he felt he had to at least let her know he would be going on a momentous mission. What would he even say to her? He wasn’t saying _goodbye_ , he felt safe in the knowledge that dad had taken all the necessary measures to keep him safe. He also didn’t want to talk about the book, or their childhood. Maybe he would just have to tell her he was going on a mission, and she could infer what she pleased from that. He looked over at his notepad that he’d been scribbling on. It wasn’t very helpful, he’d crossed most things out. It all sounded too final. Luther sighed deeply as he reached to pick up the receiver, he could do this... he could tell her. He didn’t have the best social skills, he never had but especially not since he’d been cooped up alone for so many years. Here goes nothing, Luther thought as he punched in the number that Pogo had given him.

**Author's Note:**

> I forgot I wrote this lol. If ur new to the series these are old and pre-written but feel free to suggest any stories and I can try write them :) usually they have humor in them, just not this one


End file.
